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John Smith Poem
Political life isn't cheap
moats are costly to clean when their deep
big bucks for a **** movie
and a duck house thats groovy,
it's enough to make Gordon Brown weep.
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
Hungry and cold as lunchtime came at last
with snatched breakfast a long gone blur,
my urge for food was taste and warmth,
but known; not new, no fads, no frills.
Not sure of how to proceed
I met by chance a well known friend,
a tattie, just baked and filled with mince
so simple meal enjoyed, i'm cheered.
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
dark matter
seems unfathomable
like love is
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
space worms mine darkly
in holes of cosmic blackness,
universe balanced
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
light dazzels
but all around black waits,
endless, timeless.
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
weakly bleating newborn
mother nibbles, nuzzels gently
bond in sound and taste
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
Pathways twisting and turning down long winding roads,
burdens happy and light, and then dark heavy loads
Wild winter winds chill but leave smooth untouched snows,
weird dreams raising up hopes, then spread cold fears and woes
When your bed seems a ship cast adrift in the night,
worries seize you that lifes an unwinnable fight
Winsome music of home fills eyes shining with tears,
wet silvery fish leaving sad as they cheer
We should never forget we don’t travel alone,
that our flight path is one many others have flown
Hear the signs they have posted in verse and in song,
without fear, we can follow and will not go wrong.
Weary path that seemed endless, now journey well done,
when the gold at your goal, was your own special one
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
When I first planted trees I thought it was for shelter
From the ocean gales blast, and the wild rain lashing rain.
I needed to help them, so I built up some fences.
I needed to feed them, and dug in some kelp.
The trees looked so weak, so fragile, so lonely
The trees were so small, but they grew.
Next year some had died, but most still grew bravely.
The gales blew again, the frost hard and deep.
I fussed and I worried, I planted where gaps came
I fretted and fiddled and firmed in loose roots
The trees bent with the wind, then straightened their backs up.
The trees drank from the rain, and they grew
Each year they grew on, and the next and the next one
The gales blew again, and the snows came and went,
I thought about training and pruned very gently
I did some light weeding, I mulched and I mowed.
The work was a joy, I loved to be round them.
And oft stood in silence, to think, as they grew
Now after some years there are trees all round me
The gales still blow hard, but the trees still grow on
I see the wind kiss them, and now hear them singing
I see the rain weeping, and now see them smile
They draw strength from each other with roots intertwining
And give back to me those rewards you can’t buy.
When I first planted trees I thought it was for shelter
They have given me that, and so very much more.
I planted my trees to find how to keep growing
I planted my trees to be brave in the storms
I planted my trees to cherish my loved ones
I planted my trees to make hearts smile and soar.
I planted my trees to give hope and redemption
I planted my trees to bring peace to my soul
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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John Smith Poem
The sea has its rhythm, it cares not for ours
If urgent and hasty we press on more sail
The pulse of its waves does not change or respond
They still toss us aside in the gale
The music of dance does not change to our pace
When we feel that the steps are too slow
If we block out its beat and rush on without care
Loss of timing and place will just grow
Neither plants nor live creatures are bound by our will
Deep cycles guide them to what’s right
No harvest in winter will ever bear fruit
Nor tall trees grow up overnight
By watching and hearing we learn if were wise
To take care, and take time, not just race
Let all of life’s deep graceful rhythms be felt
And cherish life’s natural pace.
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2009
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